I’ve worked with a lot of Glyphs, but none are quite like Tick Wick.

He’s not intelligent the way humans are. He doesn’t understand betrayal, loyalty, or strategy. He only reacts. Fear, instinct, and survival drive him. And that’s what makes him both fascinating and dangerous.

Tick Wick’s body is an hourglass. The sand inside isn’t just decorative—it’s part of him. When he’s scared, he can slow time, or even accelerate it without control. Panic makes him unpredictable. But calm him, and he can anchor the flow of the world around him.

When I first caught him, he was terrified of everything—my hands, the wind, Boom Boom’s stomps. But I learned to calm him. Boom Boom helps too. Together, we can stabilize him.

Then came Mothich, a more deliberate Glyph, a silken creature with replication abilities. Alone, he’s chaotic but contained. But when Tick Wick and Mothich worked together… instinct aligned, fear subsided… they voluntarily fused into something new.

I named this creature Mothwick.

Mothwick is a living combination of sand and silk, wings and hourglass. He’s balanced. His instincts coordinate naturally. He doesn’t panic. He doesn’t cause temporal surges. With him, we can control the flow of time in a small area safely. He’s brilliant, beautiful, and a reminder that harmony can be found even in the strangest of creatures.

But nothing lasts forever.

Orion took it too far. He forced another fusion, not natural, not voluntary. He created Dark Wick—an Obsidian Glyph.

It looks almost identical to Mothwick, but it’s dangerous in ways I can barely describe. Forced fusion strips instinct, compresses two beings, and twists them into shadow. Time around Dark Wick is unstable. One wrong move and the temporal distortions can fracture reality.

We tried to ground him using Blessed Goddess—magic water that stabilizes Obsidian Glyphs—but Orion still took him. He mocks us by calling it a “favor,” knowing the creature is now in his hands, and he’s already using him for his plans.

Now, I have both Mothwick, the balanced fusion born of instinct and trust, and the memory of Dark Wick, the twisted creation of Orion’s ambition.

They’re two sides of the same coin: one shows what cooperation and instinct can do, the other shows what happens when fear and control are forced into a single being.

As their catcher, I feel responsible for both. I have to protect Mothwick, retrieve Dark Wick, and stop Orion before he can create more forced fusions.

Tick. Flutter. “Baboom.”

Every step we take, every move we make… the fate of our Glyphs—and maybe the universe—depends on keeping instinct alive.

In this episode of Monster Catchers Journal, routine shatters—literally.

What begins as a quiet morning at Cross Sigils Outpost turns into chaos when Orion Venton returns, unleashing a frightened Boom Boom and stealing a powerful Mothich. As explosions rock Moonfelt Boulevard and the Council of Elders steps in, my friends and I are sent somewhere no one has dared enter for centuries—the Unoséf Shipyard.

Deep within the ruins, we uncover the truth behind the Darthma Syndicate, face a shadow beast born of corruption, and make a choice that changes everything. Orion escapes… but not with everything he wanted.

This episode isn’t just about danger and pursuit—it’s about responsibility.

Because when a Boom Boom is scared, it becomes a weapon. But when it’s understood… it becomes something else entirely.

Join me as we fight through the darkness, lose an enemy, save a glyph, and leave the shipyard carrying more than we came in with.

Sometimes doing what’s right doesn’t mean winning the fight. Sometimes it means protecting the ones who can’t protect themselves.

And this time—

Boom Boom came with us.

In this episode, I dive into one of the most mysterious Glyphs I’ve ever encountered: the Glint Orb. It’s a shimmering little creature with a strange pull it’s beautiful, unpredictable, and more than a little tricky to approach.

I’ll tell you about the first time I came across it, the challenges of keeping it safe without taking away its wild nature, and some surprising connections it has to the hidden corners of Nibiru. Of course, Luna and Zena are along for the ride, and we get into some moments that are equal parts heart-pounding and magical.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to track a Glyph that seems to have a mind of its own, this episode is for you. The Glint Orb might dazzle you but it’s also a test of patience, courage, and respect for the wild.

In this episode of The Monster Catchers Journal, I recounts my first encounter with the glyph known as Looking Glass—a discovery that begins only a few blocks from my home but quickly spirals into something far more unsettling. What starts as a routine walk through an abandoned antique district reveals a glyph tied to forgotten places, hidden streets, and reflections that don’t always show the truth.

As Looking Glass enters my care, strange questions surface about ownership, protection, and the thin line between safeguarding glyphs and controlling them. This episode marks the first ripple in a much larger weave—one that leads toward Orb Weaver Street, unfamiliar alliances, and choices that will permanently alter the future of glyph-kind.

Not all reflections are harmless… and some are already watching back. and in this episode I talk about bonds formed over the future of wild glyphs, my glyphs remain mine, but some of the glyphs caught after or maybe even all go to a good home with a new trainer. I just couldn't give up all my glyphs. but i can help other glyphs find homes that is if they want too.

This episode of Monster Catchers Journal follows the discovery of Blizorn, a rare Cryothermic Glyph whose very existence challenges everything the world believes about winter-born creatures. First encountered in the Frostline Basin, Blizorn is revealed not as a harbinger of blizzards, but as a guardian within them—radiating gentle warmth while stabilizing deadly storms. The episode quickly grows from a simple field observation into something far more personal when Blizorn returns with its family, demonstrating deep trust, emotional intelligence, and a powerful family bond rarely seen among Glyphs.

As the narrative unfolds, the episode takes a darker turn when Professor Orion and the Council of Elders attempt to capture the entire Blizorn family inside a living Milunk Tree, betraying the very principles of Glyph protection they claim to uphold. What begins as a scientific operation becomes a moral crisis, forcing the journal’s narrator to choose between obedience and compassion. When containment beams are fired without regard for human life, Blizorn intervenes—shielding the narrator and revealing the true cost of exploitation.

The episode culminates in public exposure, as the truth about Orion and the Council’s actions is brought to TerraCom, igniting widespread outrage and forcing long-hidden corruption into the light. Blizorn stands as a symbol of trust, family, and quiet resistance, while the episode itself marks a turning point in the series—where protecting Glyphs means standing against the system meant to control them.

At its core, Blizorn is not just about a Glyph.

It’s about choosing kindness in a world that calls it weakness—and discovering that warmth can be the strongest force of all. ❄️💙

This episode follows the discovery, capture, and near-breaking of Circlenum, a rare Crystal Snow Golem whose power comes from balance rather than force. What begins as a calm, almost sacred encounter in the wild turns into a tense ethical conflict when Circlenum is turned over to Professor Orion for a research project. As repeated lab visits reveal the damage caused by restraint and over-testing, the bond between catcher and monster deepens, forcing a confrontation about responsibility, trust, and what it truly means to study living beings. The episode centers on standing up to authority, protecting those who cannot speak for themselves, and choosing compassion over control—closing with the understanding that some monsters are not meant to be pushed, only understood.

This episode documents Frost Hoot not as a capture, but as a presence—one that reshaped how we understand territorial winter-class entities within the sanctuary. Frost Hoot is a snow-white owl whose feathers carry perpetual frost, his silhouette often mistaken for falling snow until his eyes open. Unlike many ice-aligned monsters, Frost Hoot does not rely on rage or instinct alone. He operates with patience, calculation, and an unsettling sense of inevitability, as if winter itself is thinking through him.

Frost Hoot possesses three known abilities, each reflecting a different aspect of winter’s nature. Snow More functions as a stat-enhancing ability, drawing strength from active snowfall. The longer Frost Hoot remains within a storm—natural or summoned—the more resilient, focused, and dominant he becomes. This ability is subtle but dangerous, as it allows him to outlast opponents rather than overwhelm them immediately.

Avalanche is Frost Hoot’s expression of territorial control. Rather than reckless destruction, it is used with precision, collapsing terrain, redirecting momentum, and forcing adversaries into disadvantageous positions. When Frost Hoot activates Avalanche, the environment itself becomes his ally, responding as if it recognizes him as a natural authority.

His most dangerous ability, Ice Age, is not merely freezing temperatures but enforced stillness. Ice Age spreads outward in waves, locking terrain, air, and motion into a state resembling ancient permafrost. Life is not destroyed—but paused. This ability reflects Frost Hoot’s core nature: preservation through suspension rather than eradication.

What makes Frost Hoot unique is that he cannot be fully contained. Initial capture attempts resulted in a controlled breach, revealing that Frost Hoot does not accept ownership. Instead, he forms conditional bonds. The journal link with Frost Hoot exists as a mutual agreement rather than a seal, allowing him autonomy while maintaining sanctuary alignment. This makes him one of the few recorded entities that is neither fully captured nor fully wild.

Within the sanctuary, Frost Hoot claims the upper roosts where cold naturally gathers. He avoids warm zones and has demonstrated territorial behavior, most notably during a conflict with Aura Beak over nesting space. Despite this, Frost Hoot does not seek dominance over other monsters—only balance. When boundaries are respected, he remains calm, observant, and distant.

Frost Hoot serves as a reminder that not all monsters are meant to be owned. Some are meant to be accommodated. His presence stabilizes winter-aligned energies within the sanctuary, preventing uncontrolled cold surges elsewhere, but only as long as trust is maintained.

This episode is not about how Frost Hoot was caught.

It is about how winter chose to stay.

Snopact is a living snowball, not a structure, not terrain, and not a weather phenomenon. He forms as a compact sphere of snow, ice, dirt, and debris that has developed awareness through constant compression and environmental stress. When still, he can be mistaken for an ordinary snowdrift or frozen mound, but his true nature becomes obvious the moment he is disturbed.

Snopact moves by rolling. When damaged, cracked, or broken apart, he instinctively pulls himself back together, drawing loose snow and surrounding material into his body. Each rotation makes him denser, heavier, and more unstable. He does not avoid obstacles. Trees, porches, fences, and creatures are treated the same way—as things to roll over or absorb until balance is restored.

Snopact reacts strongly to changes in temperature and pressure. Water can cause rapid freezing that increases his mass, while sudden warmth can weaken his surface and trigger violent self-correction. These reactions often cause uncontrolled movement, turning Snopact into a rolling hazard capable of destroying structures and destabilizing the ground around him.

The chaos caused by Snopact is unintentional but severe. His movements are not guided by intent or awareness of harm. He does not understand fear, boundaries, or danger. Once he begins rolling, he will continue until he is whole again and the environment stops forcing him to correct himself.

During the incident documented in this episode, Snopact was repeatedly destabilized and forced into motion. In response, he reformed fully and rolled through the area with increasing momentum, causing widespread structural collapse and directly impacting other creatures in the vicinity. His actions escalated the situation far beyond its original scope.

Snopact is not aggressive, but he is extremely dangerous when disturbed. He should never be treated as passive snow. The safest response to Snopact is distance and stillness. Once he starts rolling, stopping him is nearly impossible.

When Snopact comes to rest, he may appear harmless again.

That is when people make their worst mistake.